f

Get in on this viral marvel and start spreading that buzz! Buzzy was made for all up and coming modern publishers & magazines!

Fb. In. Tw. Be.

Let’s be clear: Jessica Chastain helping Octavia Spencer is not the biggest story here.

By Candice Frederick When I attended the fantastic “Women Breaking Barriers” panel at Sundance Film Festival recently, I wondered if a very pivotal moment in the conversation that centered on equality, the #MeToo movement, and creating spaces for women of power in Hollywood would even be mentioned in mainstream publications. Why? Because the moment came from a black woman, Oscar-winning actress and friend in my head Octavia Spencer, who was amid a conversation about the much-discussed pay gap in Hollywood when she interrupted the status quo to simply state, “If we’re going to talk about the pay gap, we have to bring women of color into the conversation.” Mic drop. I tweeted about it at the time, and it barely got any traction, which I thought was interesting but not unsurprising. All the conversations and think pieces I’ve read about the pay gap in Hollywood have failed to mention that there’s not only a wide difference between men and women’s salaries but also between white and non-white actresses. https://twitter.com/ReelTalker/status/954843747291836416 Because it seems to be easier to set white women’s challenges as the default for all women in Hollywood, rather than acknowledge any nuance particularly when it comes to race. But, flash forward nearly a week afterward and it was finally covered by mainstream media, and in fact it has become the lead story from the panel. Though, in a way that merely glazes over the main issue. Being one of the very few women of color journalists in the room listening to Spencer as she followed this statement with the now famous story of how her friend Jessica Chastain “walked the walk” to help her now earn 5 times her salary was significant. Spencer was emotional, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say I too was and remain moved by Chastain’s selflessness and diligence to fight against the status quo in Hollywood even though it was not something that directly impacted her. To Spencer’s own admission, Chastain didn’t even know this was an issue. So, bravo. That is what an actual ally looks like. But let’s be clear: Chastain helping Spencer is not the biggest story here. Spencer spoke out about a singular issue affecting women of color in a very white feminist space that until that point offered a very broad perspective about some of the important issues that women face in Hollywood. It was a poignant pivot in front of a mostly white crowd that was left virtually silent as she told her story. That is nothing to sneeze over. Perhaps only if you have ever been a woman of color in a white space speaking out about a very specific issue about which most of the room cannot fathom, could you understand how boss this was. Spencer didn’t sound angry (though she would have had every right to be). She didn’t sound sad. She was very matter-of-fact about it, determined to express something that to me and many other women of color is our everyday as we navigate white supremacy. And it is usually ignored, discarded, and undervalued in general feminist dialogue.
Related: EXCLUDING DEE REES DURING AWARDS SEASON IS PEAK WHITE FEMINISM

Despite a society hellbent on silencing their stories, there will always be nasty women, fragile women, slutty women…difficult women.  

Roxane Gay’s “Difficult Women” went to print at a time when the United States was putting its first female Presidential nominee against its most vehemently and openly misogynistic candidate in this century. To beat that female nominee, the misogynist would use labels: “liar,” “criminal,” “traitor,” and more. The label that would later unite women across the US against him, however, would be “nasty woman.” He would follow up with “lying woman,” “frigid woman,” “man-eating woman,” and “crazy woman” before the end of the election. These labels are the very root of Roxane Gay’s “Difficult Women”, a book about feminine labels, create at a time when the leader of the free world tried so hard to reduce women to labels, and the women found the strength to push them back. In fact, 2017 could be called the “Year of the Difficult Woman”. From the indictment of white women for electing Trump the black women who saved Alabama from itself, the pink pussy-hatted woman, silenced and disrespected women of Congress, as well as the most prominent difficult women, those of the #MeToo movement. The year was all about women marching, speaking up and speaking out against the sexual harassment that men once thought was their birthright. It was as if the Universe had read Gay’s work and decided to have it acted out in a single year. In 21 stories and 256 pages, Gay explores the labels given to women in today’s society when that woman becomes something other than compliant. She takes the label, distorts it with the image of the woman carrying it. That distortion reduces the woman to a character that is still human, but now she is her label but is more palatable to a reader who has been conditioned to NOT see past the label. By the end of the story, the reader has no choice but to see the strength and power that underlies every woman as she struggles under the auspices of the label. The reader must empathize with her or simply gather an understanding and move on. This is how each woman fared in the 21 stories.
Related: 2017 IS THE YEAR WHITE FEMINISM CHECKED HERSELF INTO HOSPICE AND REFUSED TO DIE

The industry and white feminism do this all the time, they come up with new and asinine ways to validate exclusion in Hollywood and a complete disregard for women of color who are making incredible strides.

By Candice Frederick I’ve tried to bite my tongue about this. After all, it’s just great to be mentioned, right? Because as women, when one of us wins, we all win, right? RIGHT? Wrong. It’s 2018, and I’m tired of seeing women of color show up for then take a back seat to white women whose accomplishments are just as great as their own, yet they must settle for simply being in the same room as them. Nope, not today Satan. Not anymore. Let me be more frank. You know how everyone is going on about "Lady Bird" this and "Wonder Woman" that, Greta Gerwig this and Patty Jenkins that? It seems like every Hollywood pundit is hailing the two for leading the charge for women filmmakers in 2017, as if Dee Rees didn’t just deliver one of the most astounding and technically amazing films of the year with "Mudbound" (her second since 2011’s also criminally underrated "Pariah"). Where is she in the conversation? Why is she not “leading the charge” and a frontrunner for best director this season? Why this year out of all years, when women are finally being centered in major industry discussions, does that not include Rees? This isn’t about taking anything away from Gerwig or Jenkins (because I know that’s exactly where certain minds go when you try to integrate conversation). In fact, "Wonder Woman" is my favorite movie of 2017 and "Lady Bird", well, is a very pleasant film for those hungry to see a simple story about a young white girl on the cusp of adulthood (because the landscape is sorely in need of those, right?). This also isn’t about using white women’s success as a barometer for women of color creatives, because that’s neither necessary or productive. Rather, this is about including women of color as we amplify those who’ve made extraordinary achievements in 2017 film. Is that too difficult of an ask, too outrageous to consider as more and more award nominations are unveiled sans her name?
Related: 2017 IS THE YEAR WHITE FEMINISM CHECKED HERSELF INTO HOSPICE AND REFUSED TO DIE

Stop believing what other people have to say about Black women, and start believing what Black women have to say about ourselves.

This week, rumors about actor and heartthrob Michael B. Jordan's alleged new girlfriend — Latina Instagram model, Ashlyn Castro — began to take root. Almost immediately after, news of a boycott against "Black Panther" appeared, supposedly led by Black women (but we didn't get that memo). Not a boycott of Michael B. Jordan or any of his other upcoming projects. Just "Black Panther", which is currently everybody's favorite Black power emblem. In this narrative, Black women quickly became traitors to our race, thoughtless and trivial. Our imagined lack of support for "Black Panther" translated very easily into a lack of support for Black men altogether, and this was used as a justification for the misogynoir that ensued. First of all, the sheer ease and momentum with which this wildfire rumor spread is proof enough for me that some people simply cannot wait to talk shit about Black women. All they need is a reason to air their already long or deeply-held misogynoir, whether or not that reason is based in any truth. The "Black women are boycotting "Black Panther" because Michael B. Jordan is dating a non-Black woman" hoax of 2018 was a pathetic attempt to make Black women appear bitter and paint us as irrational and irresponsible, unfit to make decisions about the media we consume — an old song that also plays during conversations about Black women's love for "Scandal" and disdain for "Birth of a Nation". The beginnings of it rest on misogynoir as much as the public’s willingness to believe in it does. Created by a known troll account on Instagram, ground zero of the fake "Black Panther" boycott effortlessly built its narrative around a familiar stereotype: Black women become irrationally angry when Black men date people of other races, especially white and white-presenting women (I'm sorry this discussion is so cisnormative and heteronormative). This is a belief that continues to grow more and more, with less and less context in each evolution. Even Jordan Peele's "Get Out" dipped its toe in this flavor of misogynoir when Chris Washington (Daniel Kaluuya) insisted to his girlfriend, Rose Armitage (Allison Williams), that the most likely reason for Georgina’s (Betty Gabriel) apparent coldness towards him was because she did not like the fact that he was in a relationship with a white woman. He had no evidence to support this claim when Rose questioned it, except to flatly say, “It's a thing.”
Related: THERE’S AN OFFICIAL BLACK PANTHER JEWELRY LINE, AND IT’S DOPE AF

The harassment that Page faces particularly hit home for me because it shined a light on the specific struggles that LGBTQ+ people face.

[TW: discussions of sexual violence and harassment, homophobia.]  If you've been taking note of anything in public media lately, you've most likely seen accusations of powerful Hollywood figures committing acts of sexual violence finally getting the publicity it needs. In fact, it's hard to take note of what was in the news outside of that. Day after day, we've seen stories shattering the facade that these abusers have so carefully crafted in the public sphere. The lock has been lifted on Hollywood's secret of sexual violence, and there's no turning back. But despite the long list of survivors telling their stories, the stories keep coming. For me, one that took my particular attention was Ellen Page's. Page took to her Facebook page last week to speak on the sexual harassment that she experienced. As she writes, she was harassed by director Brett Ratner, who she worked with X-Men: The Last Stand when she was 18. In the post, she speaks on the deliberate outing of her sexuality that she had to endure, slurs and derogatory comments that Ratner made about her and other women on set, and even comments suggesting that Page be "...f*cked so she realize that she's gay."
Related: QUEERLY CONFUSED: COMING OUT AS A MUSLIM DESI MILLENNIAL

You don't have permission to register